“So you’re behind all this… Your company has developed NB-67 and you are running these deadly clinical trials?” asked Seema, gritting her teeth with anger. “You’ve killed so many people.”
“If I was behind these killings, why do you think you’re standing alive here? Why take the pain of bringing you here? Why not kill you and dispose of your bodies?” said Anwar.
There was no reply from Seema.
He looked at Prakash and continued, “As a matter of fact I’m in some ways your saviour.”
“What?” said Prakash, frowning.
“I saved you from your pursuers in Chattarpur. I’ve arranged a doctor for your friend. He is being treated as we speak. How’s that for a saviour?”
“So those were not your men hunting us?”
“No.”
“Why did you have us kidnapped and brought here, then?” Prakash asked. What’s going on? My mind will explode.
“I want you to do something for me.”
Prakash and Seema looked at each other in surprise.
Anwar continued, “Don’t worry. What I am going to ask will only help you unravel this whole mystery. All the big revelations you’ve seen in the last few days form only the tip of the iceberg.”
“What is the iceberg then?” Seema interjected. She looked agitated.
“You’ll find out soon. But you’ll have to do as I say.”
“Go on,” Seema said.
“To give things a perspective, let me begin with a story. Considering that there are reputations at stake, you’ll keep it only to yourself. Else I’ll hunt you down wherever in the world and give you a painful death,” he said with fiery eyes.
After taking a long breath, he continued, “You must’ve heard about my origins. I spent my childhood in the Dharavi slums. That was thirty years ago. Today, I’m one of the top industrialists of India. My rise hasn’t been easy. India is a difficult place to run a business. Over the years, I’ve taken the help of some powerful entities. People who work behind the scenes and get your job done. People who use all possible means to remove obstacles. I’ve reached the top putting my leg into the footholds created by these people.”
“So that is how you’ve created the Centennium group…” Seema sneered.
“Behind every great fortune, there is a crime. It holds true for everybody. It holds true for me also.”
“Is Diya a part of your sins?”
“No. And you aren’t going to talk to her about all this either.”
Prakash recalled that Diya Shah was Anwar’s sister. Seema must be having a heart attack.
Anwar continued, “I was late to realize that by using the help from these people I was getting into a morass. I had skeletons in my closet and there was no escape from it. I was a billionaire in front of the world, but these men held me by my balls. They would often use my company’s facilities and warehouses for running their black operations. They used my men as couriers for transporting their arms.”
Prakash thought about the warehouse on Grand Trunk Road. What was its name? M/s TurboSteels Pvt. Ltd. “Is TurboSteels a company of your group?”
Anwar nodded. “So you’ve been there? What did you see?”
“There were cages in which humans were tortured… and maybe killed.”
“That’s true. They have many such torture houses where they purge their enemies.” he said.
“What about the facility where I was locked up in?” Seema asked.
“It used to be one of my old factories. Now they are using it to produce NB-67.”
“Holy shit! You know about everything since day one,” Seema said with disbelief.
“Not all of it. I knew they were doing a lot of illegal activities, not only limited to these drug trials. But I didn’t oppose them as long as they were operating covertly.”
“You didn’t oppose them!” Seema snapped. “They were killing people brutally goddamnit. Nitin Tomar massacred eleven children. Kunal Chaubey beheaded three of his friends. God knows how many more people are dead. And you didn’t do anything to stop them?”
“I was helpless!” Anwar shouted back.
“Ohh… So, now when you know that the whole story is about to be leaked, you’re making a case to defend yourself. Isn’t it?” Seema said.
“Who’ll leak it? You two? I can make you guys vanish without a trace.”
“So what do you want?” Prakash interjected.
“I want to make a deal.” He said and waited for a few moments for his words to sink in. Then he began, “I’d turned a blind eye to whatever these men were doing, as long as they didn’t threaten my empire. But they’ve crossed that thin line and I’m not going to sit silent this time. These inhuman drug trials for NB-67 and everything that has been done to brush it under the carpet have set tongues wagging. The cancer has started to spread. I have to limit the damage before it consumes me.”
“You want us to drop the story?” Prakash asked.
“No. On the contrary, I want you to publish it. But you’ll remove any reference to me.”
“And why the hell would we do that?”
“Because I’m going to give you the men who are behind all this. You’ll get to see who pulls all the strings.”
Prakash controlled a deep urge to ask the names of these men straightaway. He wanted Anwar to answer some basic questions first.
“But why make a deal with us? Why not kill us instantly? The whole story would be dead. You’d live to fight another day,” he asked. Hope I’m not giving him wrong ideas.
“I’ll have you killed in only one case – if you refuse this deal. But being a businessman, I know you’re more beneficial to me alive than dead…. You wanted to know why I’m so desperate to cut this deal. Right?”
“Right,” Prakash replied.
“Because these men have bitten off more than they can chew. They have taken an international contract for some terrorist activity in Bangalore. There is a nuclear summit going on in the city as we speak. These bastards are going to carry out a deadly attack on some people at the summit in a few hours from now,” Anwar said with rage.
He added, “I don’t think you can carry out an operation of such proportions and then remain covert. After this attack, the government and law enforcement authorities are going to come after these people. Some threads will link these men to me. I can’t let the law come after me. I don’t want to lose all I’ve built over the years because of some reckless and sinister designs of these people. No, I won’t let these people succeed at all.”
“But how can we stop them? We’re not commandos. We are reporters,” Prakash protested. “I think you should make an anonymous call to the police and tip them off.”
“What will I tell the police? I still don’t know what exactly they’re planning to do. That’s why I need your help in finding out their plan. If you can stop this attack, I’ll hand you the heads of these men on a platter.”
“Who are these men?”
“A family known as the Kushwahas. Power brokers, guns-for-hire, clan of assassins – you can call them all.”
“A family?” Prakash said, puzzled. “How can a family catch hold of such a drug? Won’t it take a lot of effort in research and development? Do they employ scientists?”
“It was the other way around. A man they call as ‘The Doctor’ approached the Kushwahas with a business deal. He used to work at a small pharmaceutical company in Europe specializing in drugs for the Central Nervous System. The company was hard-pressed for money to fund their drug development programs. They had the patent for this molecule known as NB-67, intended to be a possible drug for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. The molecule had failed in the human trials, so it wasn’t of any practical use presently. But the Doctor had seen the ghastly effects of NB-67 in humans. He knew exactly where it could be used. He brokered the deal to sell off the company’s rights of NB-67 to the family. The company did not mind. After all they were selling a useless molecule for a few millions.”
“Is this the same Doctor you were talking about?” Prakash asked Seema.
She nodded.
“But how do you know about this deal?” Prakash questioned Anwar this time.
“Because I was a financier for the Kushwahas.”
“You’ve created a monster,” Seema interjected.
“It is what it is,” said Anwar bluntly. He looked at Prakash and Seema for a few moments and then asked, “I have told you all I know. Do we have a deal, now?”
Prakash mulled over Anwar Shah’s words. He realized they had no option. They would always have a chance to tackle Anwar later. But today, there was only one way to stay alive. By saying yes to him.
“OK, we have a deal,” Prakash said, looking at Seema for agreement. Seema blinked once, meaning ‘Yes’.
“Fine then. I have a private jet standing at Delhi Airport. It’ll take you to Bangalore. I’ll get rooms booked for you in the Le Regalia hotel where all the guests for the nuclear summit are staying. Seema, you’ll be there as a correspondent from Century News. Prakash, I hope you can work it out on your own.”
Prakash nodded. There’s no end to this day.
“And one final thing. Don’t ever think about double-crossing me. Trust me; you won’t like to see me as your enemy,” Anwar said, his face growing dark. “And obviously, your friend will never see the light of day.”
64
Bangalore International Airport
It was late in the evening when Sultan came out of the airport. He had been thinking about the mission throughout his flight. The plan looked solid on paper. Tilak was already inside the hotel, ready to take care of any exigencies. The exit plan had also been chalked out properly. The only thing that he thought could possibly sabotage their mission now was the presence of Mossad agents.
The death of an Iranian scientist would definitely have rung alarm bells for the Israelis, he thought. That too when the scientist killed was of no strategic importance to Iran. From Israel’s perspective, it could mean only one thing – Iran has sacrificed its own scientist to build a case against them. And it would be followed by an attack against the Israelis. If he knew the Mossad well, they wouldn’t take things lying down. Who knows, they might already have moved their assets into the hotel. That could be a serious problem.
As he stepped into the parking lot, he felt his mood improve a bit, thanks to the cool and pleasant weather outside. Sultan saw a bearded man raising his hand for him a few meters away. He was standing beside a small hatchback.
He walked towards his escort. No conversation happened between the two. No pleasantries were exchanged. Sultan placed his bag on the rear seat and took a seat beside the driver. “You know where we need to go, don’t you?”
The man nodded.
The grave silence continued as the car nosed out of the airport. Sultan opened his mouth again only when they were halfway through their journey.
“Do you have the details of all the people who checked-in into Le Regalia today?”
That was a crucial piece of information. He wanted to know if anyone from the Mossad was inside the hotel.
“Not yet,” the man replied. “One of our hackers is still trying to get into their system.”
“Tell him to make it fast. We’ll have to neutralize these agents as soon as possible.”
65
All the weariness in Prakash’s eyes evaporated instantly when he set foot into the Gulfstream IV private jet owned by Anwar Shah. The plane was a marvel. Strictly for the filthy rich. He took a seat opposite to Seema in one of the plush beige-leather chairs.
He had lost almost all his tension in the admiration of the jet, till his gaze fell on Seema’s moist eyes. She had just got off from a call.
“You spoke to Vidisha?” he asked.
She nodded.
“What did she say?”
“She was happy to hear my voice. But she seems to have made peace with the fact that I won’t be around her most of the days. She thought I had gone out to cover one of my news stories,” Seema said with a sad tone. “Well, I could’ve been dead.”
“She’s learnt to cope with life.”
“I feel guilty when I find her different from the other kids. Mohit’s death has taken away her childhood, her innocence.”
“I can understand. It happens with people when they realize they have grown up in life. Not many people remember that moment. Do you remember yours?”
Seema shook her head. “Do you?”
Prakash nodded. “I remember the second, the exact moment I realized I had grown up. It was a cold evening nineteen years ago, when I was returning from my tuitions. There used to be a deserted railway level crossing on my way. Like every day, I was waiting on my bicycle for the train to cross when I heard a faint shriek. Far away, I could see a group of people drag a man towards the railway tracks. They were kicking and raining blows on him mercilessly. After a while, when the victim stopped resisting, they carried him and laid him on the tracks. I stood there motionless with shock as the train ran over the man. The killers got into a jeep parked alongside the road. I noticed that two of them were policemen. Before driving away, one of them stared at me with swagger, blowing out cigarette smoke from his mouth. He didn’t care who saw him committing the crime. The look was seared into my soul. After that incident, the world no longer looked a nice place to me. I had just seen its darker side. The reason I told you this story is that I believe your husband’s death has made Vidisha grow up. Don’t worry; she’ll understand the world better than her peers.”
Seema remained silent and started looking out the window – at the unending dark sky. After a few moments, she said, “Do you think I should quit this job?”
“And do what?”
“Well, I can take up a 9 to 5 desk job. I can write. I can become a teacher,” she said with a shrug. “These last few days have made me appreciate life more. I want to spend more time with my daughter.”
“Yes, you can start your life again. It’s a decision only you can make. Still, you’re one hell of a reporter,” Prakash said with a smile. “But once you become a teacher, just let me know.”
“Why?”
“There could be a scoop for me. How does it sound? ‘Super-woman becomes an ordinary -woman’.”
Seema laughed.
Prakash was glad to see the smile on her lips. She deserves it.
He looked at his watch. Bangalore was still one hour away.
66
Hotel Le Regalia, Bangalore
The banquet hall was abuzz with conversations amongst the finest minds in the world. Scientists, engineers and technologists were busy networking with each other over the dinner. However, the contingent from Israel was conspicuous by its absence.
Someone curious might have noticed that a large order for dinner that had come from Room 704. The five scientists from Israel had assembled in that room at the behest of Eli Cohen, a man from the Mossad.
Eli was a burly man who could almost frighten people with his physique alone. But, his bearded face and sharp academic eyes behind his specs gave him the look of an intellectual. He had been living in India on a non-official cover since last five years, employed as a professor of Hebrew Literature and Philosophy in a university at Pune. Besides spotting and recruiting spies, usually called HUMINT assets, he was also involved in organizing Israeli cultural events in India. No wonder, his case officer was the Cultural attaché in the Israeli Embassy at New Delhi.
The relationship being friendly between India and Israel, Eli had never got into troubled waters in India for his espionage activities. RAW was not an issue till now. The problem was the Quds Force of Iran, which wanted retribution from Israel for killing their nuclear scientists over the years. Recently, they had blown up the car of an Israeli embassy personnel in New Delhi. It was this backlash from Iran he had always feared, because they didn’t mind killing civilians.
Yesterday’s killing of yet another scientist in Iran seemed to have made matters worse. F
earing retaliation from Iran, Israeli embassies around the world had issued alerts for all of their intelligentsia travelling abroad. In India, the situation was grimmer. No less than five top nuclear scientists of Israel were participating in the nuclear summit. There was a serious threat to their lives.
Even though the Indian government had increased the security outside the hotel, Mossad didn’t want to take any chance. Their plan was to move the scientists out of India by the first flight to Tel Aviv tomorrow morning. That means they need to survive this night.
Eli had therefore arranged a meeting with all of them in one of their rooms. He wanted to apprise the scientists of the threat to their lives and tell them to leave India the next morning. But when he looked at their faces, he saw nothing other than derision towards him. There was no trace of any fear.
Wary of what reaction he would face, he chose to stand and address the people who had taken seats on the bed and the chair. “As you all know, a nuclear scientist from Iran was supposedly killed by some unknown people yesterday.”
He saw a few smiles form on their faces.
“Is there a problem?” he asked.
“The phrase ‘unknown people’ sounds interesting to me,” said one of them sarcastically. “I’m glad our people had nothing to do with it this time.”
The man appeared to be the youngest of the lot. Eli placed him in his early thirties.
Convincing these pricks was going to be tough, he realized. “Who killed the scientist is not that big an issue as of now Mr….?” he stopped to ask the young man his name.
“Amir Segal.”
“So Mr Amir, even if one of their scientists dies of something as common as a car accident, there are a lot of people who are going to blame us. And then there are a select few of them who will want revenge. They won’t sit and relax till they’ve killed an equal number of Israeli scientists. You, Mr Amir, are very far from home as of now. It’s only a few people and I who stand between you and the assassins waiting for you. So it would be great if you can listen to what I am saying… and with some respect.”
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